When a child is born, so is a mother...
A working mother's growing up years with her two children.
A birthday gift in advance for Ash - an elementary keyboard which the musically inclined Ash has taken a fancy to.
The dolly accompanied the kids on our Sunday outing because they said the doll will be afraid to stay alone at home! That's Mira in her latest leftover-material dress (which she seems to like unlike the blue one) and in my shoes!
Ashwin's skin has been looking pretty miserable of late that we decided not to send him to school till he looks a bit better. Instead we took him, after I dropped Mira at school, to Dr. Patrick Yesudian in the morning. His secretary usually gives appointments for the week on Mondays - it is easier done in person at the clinic than over the phone (044-26411254). She told us the earliest appointment was for tomorrow, but told us she would squeeze us in through today's appointments. So in the lull between two appointments, we found our way into the great doctor's room. He told us that we keep his moisturised at all times and the moment it went dry. The bathing could be once a day (well, us Malayalis like to bathe at least twice a day even if it is in water-starved Chennai) and we could just wet him at other times before applying the cream. The emollient cream he had prescribed in the last visit was Cetraben. We were advised to alternate with Fudic acid ointment mixed in liquid …
You sent home mid-day mealsto Anganwadi children during the lockdown and before So foodgrains didn't rot in godowns and children didn't go hungry A little hand goes a long way Even for people in apparent prosperity in a land like ours Where prosperity has largely been that Apparent. You welcomed natives with open hands Covid positive, covid negative First from Wuhan, then the Gulf and then all over And still keep beds and wards ready to tend to the sick and jobless waiting to be home To be quarantined first. You play the perfect host to migrant labour Clamouring to go home to Bengal And call them guest labour Feeding their hunger, their whims and checking on their health as they bide time To return to work lucrative here or to impoverished villages there This is their Gulf While ours slog in the desert heat of the original Gulf. You tend to each Covid patient the young, the old, the middle-aged like VIPs Curing them with the potion of love and care While the young and the old die in the best of worlds Unsung,…
Life has changed world over with the advent of the novel corona virus. The streets of this nation always abuzz with traffic is quiet save for delivery boys of zomato, talabat and other online delivery chains. Occasionally I see, like today, during the night curfew hours, municipal vehicles spray disinfectants on the roads (and cars in its way).
I have learnt to wear a mask when I go out; it has become as indispensable as a watch. Come to think of it, watches are dispensable after the advent of mobile phones. The shop assistants check our temperature and instruct us to wear plastic gloves that are too big for comfort. Some wear their own rubberised gloves which are tight fitting.
And when I return home, I instruct the kids not to touch the covers and head for a bath. That's a new protocol- take a shower, put the clothes into the washing machine and sanitise everything that has been bought. That is not easy. One cant spray Dettol or wash an ice cream cone with soap and water. But t…